Developing Elite Dangerous Stroud, A. Author post-print (accepted) deposited by Coventry University’s Repository Original citation & hyperlink: Stroud, A 2015, 'Developing Elite Dangerous' Foundation, vol. 44.1, no. 120, pp. 78- 88. Publisher: Foundation Copyright © and Moral Rights are retained by the author(s) and/ or other copyright owners. A copy can be downloaded for personal non-commercial research or study, without prior permission or charge. This item cannot be reproduced or quoted extensively from without first obtaining permission in writing from the copyright holder(s). The content must not be changed in any way or sold commercially in any format or medium without the formal permission of the copyright holders. This document is the author’s post-print version, incorporating any revisions agreed during the peer-review process. Some differences between the published version and this version may remain and you are advised to consult the published version if you wish to cite from it. Developing Elite: Dangerous Allen Stroud (Buckinghamshire New University) At the start of November 2012, David Braben and his company Frontier Developments launched a crowd source campaign to fund the making of a new videogame set in the Elite/Frontier Universe – Elite: Dangerous (2014). Although such funding for projects is not new, the rise of internet companies such as Crowdfunder, Indiegogo, Kickstarter and Wefund offering platforms to launch pitches for projects is a more recent development. Crowd funding remains a fringe activity, operating as a hybrid between consumer purchase and micro investment. There are few guarantees beyond trust in the organiser and there is a difficulty for both the organiser and backer in determining how much influence they have in the development choices associated with a venture. My involvement with Elite: Dangerous began when I saw the Kickstarter listing on the day it started. I cast my mind back to my experiences of Elite (1984) and Frontier: Elite 2 (1993). I had played them for hours. They had been an escape into another world that had allowed me to imagine what it might be like out there. I followed the crowdfunding campaign through its last days, pledging my support and finding I was not alone. Thousands of fans had come aboard and were sharing their experiences of the previous games. The last days were halcyon as we could all see the project would be successful. One of the offered ‘rewards’ from the project was to write a piece of official fiction set in the game universe. A diverse collection of writers, both experienced and inexperienced, had backed sufficiently to achieve these rewards, myself amongst them, with a plan to write and publish Elite: Lave Revolution (2014). When the dust had settled, I contacted Frontier Developments and offered my services. My research M.A. had involved the design of worlds in fantasy and science fiction. I thought I might be able to help the company sketch-out information for the writers so they could create fictions that would be consistent with the game environment. Worldbuilding As Gwyneth Jones has argued, ‘one thing science fiction and fantasy certainly have in common is the imaginary world, a world that must be furnished with landscape, climate, cosmology, flora and fauna, human or otherwise self-aware population, culture and dialogue’ (Jones 1999: 11). Since at least the time of Hesiod, who attempted to define the composition and origins of the Hellenistic pantheon, writers have created environments that play an active part within their work. Hesiod’s project was complicated by existing stories so his ‘macrotext’ had to be constructed to include them. A macrotext is the framework for a specific fictional world, through which a large project of multiple outputs can be devised. It is a structured document, enabling the development of expressions that fit the fictional world, but the elements of structure are drawn together for their function, not because of a pre- determined pattern in the narrative. Although also known as a canon or plot bible, neither term really encapsulates its purpose. A world canon might include previously published work and be difficult to alter as it has already been disseminated A plot bible encompasses only plot. The macrotext is formative and evolves along with its outputs, aspiring to be everything required to be known about a world. The expressions enjoy a formative relationship with this catalogue so as to maintain consistency with all other work produced in the same fictional space. For example, in Hesiod’s Theogeny (c. 700 BCE) there is an early creation myth that attempts to capture and define the Gods of classical Achaea. The disparate nature of Greek society, sharing parts of their religion and culture between city state kingdoms, made for a fractured interpretation of the different aspects of their cosmology. Hesiod attempts to knit these fractures together and, by using a creation myth, determines an absolute beginning, or point of origin, for all subsequent writing. In addition to this, Hesiod describes each of his defined pantheon; lending them a visual representation. This is relevant for the choice of who is present and who is not. The point of origin is a practical concept when attempting to construct a macrotext. From here the writer can establish the consequential relationship that brings the events of their world to the point of their story’s circumstance; the point of departure (see figure 1). Point of Origin Point of (Place where the Departure roots of the story (Place where the begin). story begins). Many fictional creators begin this journey by posing questions, constructing an outline of their world, before consolidating it. In this process, the questions asked are just as important as the answers given, since these frame the design. The resultant document is a ‘42’, in reference to Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy (1978); a collation of important aspects. However, unless this process is employed exhaustively, these remain a starting-point of notes, expanding on the original inspiration behind the writing idea. By contrast, a fully-fledged macrotext is a planned construct. Whereas, in Hesiod’s case, his macrotext sought to incorporate existing works into a larger canon, in more recent times this process has been used to devise new environments. The benefit for the writer is that this larger canvas allows for many of the problems of consistency and plausibility to be worked out before starting the story and/or involving others. The mutable nature of the document encourages change, evaluation and collaboration whilst also lending successive developments formal coherence. The macrotext is a form of ergodic literature, as defined by Espen J. Aarseth, in that it is a text that that requires more than non-trivial effort to read. It is encoded to inspire other outputs which are released to a mass audience. The encoding of the work is not necessarily overt. The document may evolve and change based on the outputs it generates, but it tries to act as a bridge between each, maintaining their consistency. This temporal state is in itself a form of encoding as those accessing it cannot assume its permanence. Access to it indicates intention to produce further work. It exists between output forms and can inspire all sorts of different work, ensuring each connects and reinforces the other, creating a new form of mythopoeiac self-referentiality. It is here that transmedia storytelling finds its guide in cinematic franchises such as The Matrix and Star Wars. The macrotext defines what exists and what cannot exist. It provides mutable rules in a fictitious world of make-believe so that, in some sense, it operates as a hyperreal construction. In the case of Elite: Dangerous the established canon of the game lay in its three prequels. Game manuals, gazetteers and short story anthologies formed a body of published fiction that was difficult to obtain. In addition, the third prequel Frontier: First Encounters (1995) had an in-game news feed, full of ongoing news events, stories and a map of hundreds of star systems, all with government types and differing trade and industry bases, much of this procedurally generated, but with a check system that maintained consistency between each player’s version of the game. The original Elite had constructed a set of eight galaxies with two hundred and fifty six star systems in each. However, these were procedurally generated, making them almost identical in look. The system names were allocated from a database, none of which resembled names given to actual star systems, making the whole experience a fantasy. The game’s release came with a manual containing some fictional references and a novella, The Dark Wheel by Robert Holdstock. In Frontier: Elite 2 the galaxy was remodelled. A small selection of fictional systems from before were retained (these were the systems the player had started on in the previous game) but the rest were taken from astronomical star charts. The Sol system and Earth made their first appearances and the minimal backstory of the previous release was upgraded and connected to our own time period. For the first time, a galactic date referenced our own time. The game was set in AD 3200 and came with a manual, gazetteer and a collection of short stories. The gazetteer, in particular, established the backgrounds of several systems and gave a thin timeline, listing notable events that had occurred between 1993 and 3200. Mindful of my task, to produce working background material for the game and for the fiction projects to be produced alongside it, I set about writing a more detailed historical account. I took my cue from the style of the manual, and used the tone of a history text, narrating events.